


this moment that is ours

by justjoy



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode s01e13: Savoureux, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:59:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justjoy/pseuds/justjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham visits Alana Bloom.</p><p>[Missing scene from the finale, <i>Savoureux</i>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	this moment that is ours

**Author's Note:**

> My version of the DVD extra missing scene of Will visiting Alana before going to Hannibal's office in _Savoureux_ , as referenced by Bryan Fuller's [tweet](https://twitter.com/BryanFuller/status/347906278812700672). More pictures [here](http://www.nbc.com/hannibal/photos/savoureux/13538/#item=293124). And obviously, spoilers.
> 
> Also posted on my [Tumblr](http://presumenothing.tumblr.com/post/54001399935/this-moment-that-is-ours), where you should join me so we can all try to survive this hiatus together.

Alana wakes to the sound of Will's voice and a pretty bad crick in her neck, having fallen asleep on her couch clutching her phone. She'd reluctantly come home when Jack Crawford had told her to for the fourteenth time, but not before threatening him with something painful if he didn't update her on Will's situation -

Her mind stutters to a halt as she properly realises what she's seeing: Will, crouched in front of her fireplace, murmuring softly to the dogs gathered around him.

Alana knows that she's staring, hates the fact that she is. But she can't help it, because _Will_ is _here_ , and she's quite very certain that this is not a dream, even though it does feel quite surreal.

She can tell the exact moment Will realises that she's awake - he runs his hand through the littlest dog's fur one more time before he stands, brushing dog fur off the dark jacket he's wearing over jumpsuit orange - but Alana can't quite find a word for Will's expression.

There's sadness in there, of course, but also many other things that she can't quite identify. And even though she knows now that there is something very wrong with Will's brain Alana can't deny that this is the most stable, the clearest he's been in far too long.

"Hey," he says, like it's perfectly normal for her to have conversations with wanted persons in her house.

Which it isn't, of course, but they've never exactly been _normal_ anyway, so why start now?

"Hey yourself," Alana answers as she gets up, abruptly aware of how terrible she must look in her oversized navy cardigan and rumpled dress, eyes puffy and red from crying. "Fancy seeing you here."

The sentence achieves its desired effect - she sees the barest hint of amusement in Will's expression, swiftly joined by uncertainty as he takes two steps towards her, then stops.

"Why?" she asks, and it's not _why did you do it_ or _wh_ _y did you escape_ but just _why are you here._

"I needed to see the dogs," Will answers finally, giving her that awkward half-smile. _And you_ , Alana thinks she hears unspoken, but no point in borrowing heartbreak when she has enough waiting for her already.

Besides, she knows how much Will's dogs mean to him, and the feeling is clearly mutual, judging from the pile of furry contentment sprawled in front of the fireplace. "They say anything to you?"

"Winston - he's the brown one - likes the rug. Your Prius too, I think. And I told everyone that I might be away for a long time, and not to destroy the furniture while I'm gone."

He looks away as he says the last bit, and it's only then that Alana realises that he's actually been looking straight at her all this time.

The loss of eye contact feels like a physical blow.

Alana isn't conscious of moving, but she must have, because in the next moment her arms are around Will, who trembles as he hugs her back.

"They'll send me to Baltimore, won't they?" Will whispers, and Alana's breath catches in her throat.

"Most likely," she answers just as softly, as if speaking any louder will break this transient peace that they have.

Alana searches for something to say, something to comfort Will and maybe herself too, but she can't find anything that isn't an outright lie or won't become one soon enough. So she does the only thing she can - holds on to him like her very life depends on it, because she's afraid that if she doesn't then one of them will drift away and drown, and she can't even say which one of them it would be.

And when they finally let go, far too soon, Will finds her gaze again and says, "Promise me one thing."

She nods, not quite trusting her voice.

"Take care of my family while I'm gone," he says, and Alana's gaze flickers from Will to his dogs and back again just as he adds, "That includes you too."

Alana reaches up to touch his face, and knows that he can see the smile on hers, even if it is dimmed by their shared sorrow. "Only if you promise to come back."

Will knows just as well as Alana what a mental hospital can do to people - she can see the weight of that knowledge reflected in his eyes. But he doesn't give voice to any of it, merely lays his hand over hers and asks, "Until whenever?"

His hand is calloused from years of fishing, yet still gentle against her own, and Alana memorises every detail, every minute sensation. Knows that this may be her last chance in a long while, because next time there will be a thick pane of glass between them.

"Until whenever," she says, and Will smiles.


End file.
